Clyde Petersen's 'Torrey Pines' targets the chaos of puberty

When Clyde Petersen was a kid, his mom one day announced they were taking a drive to New York. The problem: They lived in Del Mar, California. It was a 2,773-mile road trip.

It didn’t seem unusual to Petersen at the time because he was just 12 years old and he didn’t yet know his mother was a paranoid schizophrenic.

“I didn’t realize she was different for a long time, because that was all I knew,” he says. “I think we all tend to normalize situations we’re in, whether it be for survival or just due to ignorance.”

During the long and trippy trip, his mother actively hallucinated, creating the latest chapter in Petersen’s sometimes-surreal childhood. About 20 years later, that road trip inspired Petersen to co-write (with Kimya Dawson) a song called “Torrey Pines,” which later served as the basis for an animated film of the same name.

Directed by Petersen, the film captures the isolation and oddities of puberty, ramped up by his mother’s battle with mental illness.

“Torrey Pines,” which takes a heavy subject and leavens it with humor, will be shown Feb. 14-17 in the Black Box theater at the Paramount Center in Boston. The one-hour, hand-painted, cut-paper, stop-motion, autobiographical animated film will be accompanied by a live band performing the soundtrack. (That’s Petersen on bass.)

Petersen’s film doesn’t fit into any convenient category, and neither does his life. Petersen’s time with his mother was further complicated by his attempts to sort out his sexuality and self. Today, he’s a member of both the transgender and queer communities in his hometown of Seattle.

“Torrey Pines” clearly resonates with those two communities, as well as those who have dealt with mental illness in their family. Petersen says it’s “not uncommon for people to come up to me after the show in tears and in need of a hug.”

In a broader sense however, the film deals with “puberty chaos,” which is an equal-opportunity affliction.

“For sure, puberty chaos is all around us,” he says. “Everyone’s body erupts into chaos at some point. I think everyone experiences their body betraying them at least once in their life, if not every day. That’s universal.”

It took about two years for Petersen and his fellow filmmakers to complete the film, working frame by frame out of Petersen’s bedroom on a modest Canon camera that was linked to a computer, operating an animation program called Dragonframe.

When the project was complete, “Torrey Pines” walked out into a world that seemed ready to embrace it; or at least give it a chance.

Trans issues were making headlines and inspiring reality TV shows when Petersen and his band began touring with the film. The trans movement now seems like the new wave of civil rights as the community fights for their right to dress, pee and love the way they want.

Petersen, 37, recognizes that while the political dialog about trans issues has gained momentum, actual progress for trans people has been slow.

“I think socially we are currently in a phase where transgender topics have a certain cultural currency,” he says. “But I don’t think we’re in a place where trans people are treated well, protected, cared for or valued in our society.”

The topical nature of trans issues may help explain why “Torrey Pines” has struck a chord, and this film about a road trip has inspired a road trip of its own… around the world. The “Torrey Pines” tour - the film accompanied by the live band – started in 2016, and it now includes stops all over the United States, trips up into Canada, and two European tours.

In addition, the film and its performers were recently invited to an animation festival in Tokyo, which explains why our interview is part via-phone and part via-email.

“This East Coast run will be our final run with the show,” says Petersen. “We’ve been on the road for two years. It’s been an incredible ride.”

“Torrey Pines” represents a happy ending to a tumultuous adolescence. While some kids are stumped by their discombobulated childhoods, Petersen was able to turn his into art.

“Moving to Seattle with my dad shifted my life significantly,” he says. “When I lived in Del Mar, I didn’t really have access to much culture. But when I moved to Seattle, I really started to get into playing music and making art. Grunge was exploding all around me. Everyone was trying to be a rock star. It normalized art and music, made it seem like a career you could have.”

Whatever wounds Petersen’s childhood may have inflicted, he knows they also may have helped him become the artist he is today.

“Making art is often a series of problem-solving steps, so the more upheaval and coping skills you have, the more adept you are at solving issues that get in the way of making art,” he says. “I don’t think it’s a prerequisite to have a horrible life to be an artist. But I do think people that face upheaval have less fear overall of sharing their work with the world.”